


Worth

by Marvelouslife



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bespin, Desert, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guardians who are deceased, Set Between episode V and VI, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Tatooine (Star Wars), There ain't no WBW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelouslife/pseuds/Marvelouslife
Summary: Before the team goes and rescues Han, Luke takes a visit to his old home one last time to get the closure he desperately needs.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker
Kudos: 10





	Worth

**Author's Note:**

> I figured, I might as well get it out of my system.

_Was it worth it?_

The Millennium Falcon landed a few miles from the old home of residents Owen and Beru Lars. Luke had requested a pit stop on Tatooine, covering his inner turmoil with his dry sense of humor. None of his crew members were dumb, and they could see the longing pain deeply ingrained in his face. Leia knew Luke was from Tatooine, but was never told why he left. She assumed to join the rebellion, but she realized now there was something else troubling him. Only Ben Kenobi knew the reasoning, and C3PO and R2D2 kept their lids shut. The story was for Luke to tell, not for a couple of loud mouthed droids to speak, and Luke wished to hold the anguish to himself for a bit longer. 

Luke made the suggestion after Leia rescued him from doom on Bespin. Hanging on a small antenna, bleeding out from his wrist which used to have a hand occupying it, Luke had cried out to Leia in a final effort, praying she could hear his pleas. Lucky for their new found bond, because he would have been falling thousands of feets if she didn’t come at the last moment. Once the ordeal was over, and his missing appendage was replaced by a ragged metal hand, Luke reflected.

Darth Vader claimed to be his father. His call to the dark side was potent because of his lineage. It was in his blood to wield the dark force, his destiny to join his father. Luke knew he had to go to Yoda for answers. Darth Vader could be easily lying to manipulate Luke in joining forces. Sway him to the darkness to be consumed by the emperor as Darth Vader is. Luke wouldn’t fall for his pathetic trap, even though he felt the pull. The tug that made him second guess his thoughts and decisions. The pull that told him, Vader spoke truth. It shook his nerves to think that. 

Leia agreed to take him once she found out her beloved was trapped on the planet, in his carbonite prison. Jabba the Hut was residing on Tatooine for business, and pleasure. Tatooine was a versatile place for crime, and the profit crime brought with it. Jabba the Hut conducted business a lot on the desert planet. They had to come up with a plan with dealing with the crime lord, but Luke was still shaken from earlier events. He had suffered great loss, and even greater prior to the confrontation with Lord Vader. Leia granted him a moment to catch his breath, his bearings, starting with his hut of a home. 

Luke made them land a great distance away from his home to which both Chewbacca and Leia were questioning. He neglected to answer properly, saying it was “safer that way”. Considering the fiasco they went through on Bespin, Leia felt the similar pang of darkness that clouded Luke. The same cloud she felt before he was hanging on the ship for dear life. She immediately went after him, but Chewbacca put a hand in front of her. He could read the look on Luke’s face. The journey he was on was not one Leia could help or fix. He had to face his demons alone. 

The trek was fairly short. The time lengthened because of the many times Luke had to pull his feet out from pockets beneath the sand. As he reached his destination, he could hear his heart beat grow louder. The last time he saw this home, it was enveloped in flames, his guardians along with it. He never thought he would see this place again. Never thought he _wanted_ to see this place again. He glanced down at his robotic hand, bare and cold even with the twin suns beaming down on it. He grimaced, but he looked up, reeling in on his old home. 

The home had dealt with a few sand storms while he was away, and it was slightly buried. He didn’t bother looking for the corpses of those he loved. He would save it for last.

The dune was charred in certain patches, but it was hard to _burn_ sand. Luke’s heart thudded in his chest heavily as he walked to the old front door. The weight of the past few years slamming down on him. He went through the opened alcove, his metal hand grazing over the materials. Memories flooded through him as he observed the burnt, sanded over items and trinkets. The table had turned to ash from the attack, and most of everything that made this hovel a home. There were a few nick nacks that were charred, but not completely destroyed.

The utensils were crisped, but if given to the right individual, could be saved and used again. His hand glazed over them too. One of his old toys (which was really a metal part to a speeder) was still intact. He picked it up off the ground, and turned the gears with his much bigger hands. He remembered keeping it because he liked the sound. His eyes shifted to an old fairytale book Aunt Beru would read him when he was a small child. Crazy tales about Mandalorians and Jedi going to war, now was just ash in a pile of sand. 

More memories came and went, and the pressure in his heart increased exponentially. His still flesh hand clutched his vest, the air leaving his lungs as the pain overwhelmed him. The reality of the situation coming into full effect as he asked himself:

Was it worth it?

The question he constantly asked himself. His heart ached, but the tears failed to come. He kept wandering his home, walking into his guardian’s room. His chest heaved, and the emotions he kept bottled up these past few years started to surface. 

He spent so much of his adolescence wishing to get off of Tatooine. Praying for a moment to leave the dust ball. Oh, how he regretted it now. Ben told him he would have been as dead as them if he stayed, but he still felt guilty for not being there to do something. _Anything_. He wasn’t given a chance to save his family. Yes, he wanted to leave, but the death of his parents was abhorrent. It was unnecessary, and it was unfair. 

They were his guardians. Raised him since he was an infant. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were his parents. They were his first family, and probably his only because he knows Darth Vader is lying. Their fates were undeserved, and Luke blamed himself for their deaths. 

He let the negative emotions flow through, having this moment, and this moment alone, to mourn. 

He would have never met Leia if not for his call to action. Nor would he have met Han or Chewbacca. He wouldn’t have learned the ways of the Force by Ben, and he wouldn’t have been able to blow up the Death Star wielding the power. He wouldn’t have given the advantage to the rebellion, and halved the budget of the Empire. He wouldn’t have met his real father which he still had trouble believing or not. He would have never lost his hand without their deaths. 

Without their deaths, he wouldn’t have so much anguish.

He wouldn’t have known his inherit call to the dark side. He wouldn’t have known Vader. He wouldn’t have a missing hand. He wouldn’t have scorched parents. So he asked again:

Was it worth it? 

Or better yet, would you do it all again?

It was that question that made Luke put a hole through the black wall with his metal fist. The anger seeped into his pours and it threatened to overtake him. He punched another hole in the wall, and this time he made a noise. It was a grunt with an underlying speck of sadness. 

He wanted to know, why them? They were honest, hard working farmers who kept to themselves. They weren’t a threat to the Empire. If it was him they were after, he would have gladly given himself up to protect them. It was unfair. They didn’t give him the chance. The option to pick his life. Life was thrusted upon him.

But would you do it again?

“I don’t know.” He replied to his question weakly. The truth behind his guilt was, he didn’t know if he would or wouldn’t do it again. He ponders all these should ofs, could ofs, but the fact is, he didn’t. He didn’t obey his uncle’s wishes, and he arrived too late to the scene. There is nothing he could do but accept defeat. Because he knew he would do it again, but he would never find its worth.

He walked out of the hut, closure being the last thing on his mind. This question could never be answered, and he would never find solace in their deaths.

Luke froze when he saw a charred hand sticking out of the sand. The wind was blowing harsher than when he first came, and the corpses peered from underneath. The layer of sand that buried them, now revealed the horrified bodies. Luke had a hard time stomaching it when they were still aflamed, but just as last time, his eyes could not peel away. Aunt Beru’s face was first, showcasing a jaw that dislocated from the skull making a face of pure terror. Uncle Owen’s skull had been bashed in, and there was a hole in its side. 

They had fought for their lives, and were tortured for it. 

Leia fought for the lives of millions, and was tortured for it.

They both had value, but one had to top the other. He needed to know.

He needed to know, “If what I’m doing is right.” It should be an obvious yes, but he had doubts. Sometimes he felt he fought for revenge, less for fighting for others. His hatred for the Empire, and the emperor for what they did to his family made his blood boil. Gave him motivation to fight with vigor, and then he would become just like his father. Full of hatred and rage. 

Luke glanced at his metal hand, his emotions reaching their breaking point. His metal hand clenched as it shook violently. He stared intently at his hand, but the wind whipping around him showed the true story. The rage built on top of his frustration covering his guilt, and washing his grief. The Force amplified around him, and the sand lifted around him. “I don’t know,” he repeated his answer in a whisper, but as he continued to glare at his prosthetic hand, his voice grew louder. “I don’t know,” he growled, the conflict eating at him. He knew his guardians couldn’t respond, they were dead, but he needed some sort of grounding before he-

“I don’t know!” He yelled to the heavens, and he focused his Force energy on his home. His metal hand reached out, and the hut rattled. His second hand joined in, and the hut began to rise from its foundation. He lashed his grief on his home, and his hands slowly balled into fists. The hut followed suit, and it began to crack and shatter. It rose higher into the air, and he forced all his pain onto his only home. A large crack split the middle, and spread throughout the hovel. 

As the hovel split into two, his mind split into two. “I don’t want to choose,” the dark side, the light side, the family he’s known or the family he has found. Choosing one or the other brought a fracture in his stability, and he was ready to crumble as his house did. 

He was putting enough pressure to make the hovel explode. He let the grief consume him and he closed his metal fist to seal the deal. “Luke,” his hand unclenched to the sound of his name and the hovel was on the fringe of falling apart. A hand grasped his shoulder and squeezed, and he felt his hold on his home loosen. Luke hesitantly turned his head to see it was Leia at his side, comforting him. “It’s okay to mourn them,” she placed her hand on his cheek, and his hand dropped. The hovel dropped simultaneously as his hand did, and sand flew everywhere. “It’s okay wanting better for them.” How she knew his emotions, he wasn’t sure, but he had a strange feeling. Leia kept her gaze on him, and he found his anger ebbed away. The emotions unraveled from their tangled knots, and finally, he let the tears come. 

Leia knew what it was like to hold back one's grief. She never had her chance to cry for Alderaan. She had to suck it up, and keep fighting. She was used to it at this point. She had to be the strong one, for the rebellion, for this team, and it seemed Luke had thought he had to do the same. 

He was the last Jedi. He had to set the example, but he was just a kid.

He was just a boy from Tatooine, who wanted something more than the dry slums of the desert. He never realized wanting something would require sacrifice. 

Luke wrapped his arms around her, and he let out small sobs into her shoulder as she rubbed his back. “I miss them.”


End file.
